Masquerade
by The Frisky Firelily
Summary: How could wearing a mask reveal so gorram much?
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **What the hell is wrong with me? I thought once the Chosen-verse was finished I'd take a bit of a break…apparently no such luck. Wash and Book are alive – I don't care, I like 'em that way. Post-Miranda.

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Jayne couldn't quite believe how much he wanted to kill Mal at this very moment. Seriously, of all the hair brained, ridiculous schemes the man could have come up with why the hell did he think this was a good idea? He'd start with the toes and work his way up, breaking everything he found in between.

Yup, that'd work.

It had started innocently enough he supposed. Since the Miranda broad wave six months ago most of the 'verse had rebelled against the Alliance, their fury at the cruel decisions of the unified government causing massive uproar. As the dust had begun to settle things were slowly being rebuilt.

Even the Core planets were now embracing the concept of an Independent 'verse whose system was based on mutual assistance and co-operation. Rim planets and Core alike were trading more freely now, each supporting one another. Medical assistance from the Core was exchanged for the farmed produce of the Outer planets. Each planet now had their own separate system of governance that was interconnected with every other planet in some way – the Federal Law Enforcers had taken over from the Alliance soldiers, allowing some measure of peace to spread throughout the 'verse.

Which had proved lucrative for 'security specialists' such as the crew of Serenity. Now Mal's team was hired for protection gigs, infiltration units, and private clean-up work. The stories of the rebel Browncoat and his fierce crew had spread far and wide, with the rumours of a strange witch allowing them to up their price – why settle for a standard security team when you could have one with a Reader?

So when they had received this particular job it had been met with much anticipation. Federal Enforcers were good for keeping the peace, but there still reigned some small parts of Core society that clung to the old ways, seeking to rebuild the Alliance they refused to doubt. As such the crew of Serenity had been contacted to infiltrate a party, some upper class _go se_, for information gathering.

The plan was definitely solid – sending a Reader into a room full of Alliance minded people would allow for extremely fast results. More helpfully, the party was a masquerade, so even those who had heard stories of Serenity's dark little secret would be unaware of her presence.

Mal had decided that River should be sent in with an escort, a 'bodyguard' as the Core folk put it, as was the tradition among young, single society ladies. Mal had been prepared to go himself, until he'd gotten _gorram _shot. The doc had him on rest until the leg wound was properly healed, since the round had hit the bone, shattering Mal's femur. The Captain would recover fully, but not in time for the party.

Simon couldn't go – the ship's doc had definitely improved his combat skills, but he still wasn't trained for these situations. Zoe was now six months pregnant, and both Wash and Mal were being ridiculously protective of the overburdened first mate. Wash would be needed if they required a speedy getaway, and Book was comfortable enough with his age to laugh at any suggestions.

Which left Jayne.

Now, on any normal day Jayne would be more than happy to play 'big scary man'; hell, he'd damn near invented the role. But this was some fancy dress up thing, and he hadn't worn a suit since his Grandpa had passed away when he was ten. If Jayne knew the word vociferously he would have used it – he had protested, vociferously.

To no avail.

They'd landed on planet an hour ago. Jayne knew they were expecting him to dress up (hell, 'Nara had spent the better part of four hours poking and prodding his suit into place), but when they'd informed him that a certain standard of hygiene would be required Jayne knew he should have known better.

Simon's smirk should have given him some warning.

Still, he was the first to admit he wasn't the brains of the operation, so when Wash had asked him to come look at something outside he'd done so without question. The second he stepped alongside the ship a bucket of liquid soap had been dumped on his head by a giggling Kaylee, and the high pressure hose had been turned on him by his evil Captain.

He wasn't sure which was worse – the sting of the water, the soap in his eyes, or the way his ruttin' crewmates had laughed like little maniacs. He'd relented, stripping his shirt off and growling the entire time – Mal had only turned off the hose when Jayne had threatened to strip to his birthday suit.

And damned if the women hadn't stopped laughing at that thought, their heads tilting simultaneously to one side.

Oh, there would be payback, make no mistake about it. Still, when Inara had pointed out that Jayne wasn't likely to have acceded to a request for a proper shower, the mercenary was forced to give some ground.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

So now he was waiting in the cargo bay, ignoring the way Simon was laughing at his attire. The black suit and charcoal shirt were at least the right size, thanks to Inara's tailoring, and he hadn't been forced to wear a tie. Plus, Mal had been so concerned about retribution for the surprise shower that he hadn't forced Jayne to shave his goatee.

Kaylee and Zoe had given him strange looks when they'd seen him in his fancy gear, something he wasn't sure he liked. Still, the suit didn't restrict his movement too much, and he had plenty of weapons stashed on his person, not to mention the two hand canons his 'bodyguard' permit allowed him to wear. The black mask was designed to sit over his eyes only, and he'd made sure it didn't restrict his peripheral vision too much.

He fiddled with his earwig again, growing more and more impatient. Where the hell was the girl? Nobody had dumped a bucket of soap on her, hell she'd simply perched herself on a nearby branch and enjoyed the show. He wasn't sure how the scruffy little thing was going to pass in high society, but a sharp glance from Book had silenced his tongue.

It wasn't that she weren't alright lookin' in her own way, but the baggy dresses, the tangled hair did little to show a Core girl off. He couldn't quite summon the hatred he used to have for her, not after she'd dived into a roomful of Reaver's and come out without a scratch. Hell, any other woman and he'd have suggested a good tumble in the sack after that display.

Course, any other woman wouldn't have damn near ripped his balls off at the Maiden Head.

He grunted as he did yet another weapons check – throwing knife strapped to his forearm, extra pistol strapped to his ankle, hand canons in hip holsters, and a single grenade in his boot (he hadn't told Mal about that one). Where the hell was the ruttin' Crazy girl? Better ta get this over and done with quick.

He heard the footsteps before the rest of the crew, turning towards the entrance to the cargo bay.

_Ma de._


	2. Chapter 2

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Thanks for the awesome response guys! Hope this continues to tickle your proverbial pickle :)

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Jayne had met some bad people in his time. You don't get a rep as one of the fiercest mercenaries this side of Persephone without coming across your fair share of assholes. Hell, he'd worked for most of them. Once he'd had a boss who liked to shoot one man on his crew each time they took a job, just to prove that he could. There was a high turnover rate on that ship. Another man had enjoyed eating the eyeballs of his enemies, said it helped him see into their minds. Yup, Jayne Cobb had met some low down, vile, evil people in his time.

But he'd never met someone as evil as Inara Serra.

The ex-Companion gave a wry smile as she stepped to one side, revealing her masterpiece with a graceful flourish.

Queen, goddess, succubus.

The girl's hair was no longer the tangled mess he'd grown used to. Now it was pinned messily at the base of her neck, soft chocolate brown tendrils loose around her face. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl, her lips left pink and bare, making her look like she was a porcelain doll. A black choker gripped her slender throat, a single ruby droplet falling into the hollow at the base of her throat. Matching ruby droplets were slipped into her earlobes, drawing attention to her swan neck.

And the dress.

Jayne had seen dresses before. Kaylee had worn her pretty pink getup when she'd married Simon, all frills and joyful grins. Inara always wore her fancified _go se_, rich silks and rare laces, looking like a queen on their dirty little ship. He'd even seen Zoe in that slinky pink dress a few months ago, dancing with Wash in the cargo bay, a last display of finery before the baby swelled her stomach.

This was something else.

It was simple. There were no frills or laces, no layers of skirts, no puffy sleeves. The black sheath was strapless, clinging tightly to her chest and waist, skimming her hips and falling to the floor. Her collar bone and arms were left exposed, pale and perfect against the dark material. A single black cuff adorned each wrist, a smattering a ruby shards glinting against the inky onyx. The tight bodice pushed her breasts up, revealing a tiny amount demure of cleavage, creamy mounds of flesh that made his mouth water.

As she took to the steps of the cargo bay the fabric shifted, splitting all the way up to mid-thigh, revealing an expanse of creamy, lean skin. A pair of impossibly high shoes, black pumps with a stiletto heel, showed off the incredible dancer's legs.

Jayne felt his heart stop.

Gone was the mental patient, the frightened teenager. The dress and hair made her look older, sophisticated, the high cheekbones and delicate features finally revealing themselves. Somehow the girl was gone and left in her place was this woman, flashing brown eyes framed by thick black lashes looking huge and dark, pink lips full, soft, inviting.

Around him the crew were praising their _mei mei_, their 'tross, telling her how grown up she looked, how beautiful she was. Jayne didn't hear any of it. He couldn't take his eyes off the stranger in front of him.

As she stepped into the cargo bay Simon gave her a swift kiss on the cheek, moving back as Kaylee handed over the simple black mask. A spray of feathers on either side swept upwards towards her hair, and as she turned Jayne supressed a groan.

Backless.

The gorram thing had to be backless. The bodice was fitted tightly, left open at the back, a single strap holding it in place below her shoulder blades. More creamy skin, the elegant curve of body making his mouth water. It took every ounce of discipline Jayne had been forced to acquire over the years not to run a hand over her shoulders, down her spine, the urge to feel that smooth skin against his calloused hands making his head ache.

He was glad his pants were loose.

Mal slapped him on the back amiably. "Well, looks like yer gonna have yer hands full tonight Jayne."

For the second time that night Jayne's heart stopped, the thought of exactly what he'd like his hands to be full with immediately flooding his body with desire.

Mal didn't seem to notice the hitch in the taller man's breathing. "Every man in the place is gonna want a dance with our lil 'tross."

The jolt of possessive rage took him by surprise. River's head briefly snapped towards him, obviously sensing something different, though he gave no outward indication.

Simon and Wash were giving approving, brotherly grins as Book gave River and deep bow and extended his hand. She answered with a radiant smile, allowing the preacher to sweep her into a little waltz. The crew were laughing and clapping as he turned her with a flourish, bowing once more as she gave him a polite and graceful curtsy.

Jayne couldn't move. How the hell was he supposed to take her to a party looking like that? He thought briefly that either this was an incredible display of trust from the Captain, or the cruellest joke they could think to play on him.

Either way he was in big trouble.

She turned those dark eyes in his direction, giving him a polite smile. He suddenly felt like there was something he was meant to do, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. Might have had something to do with the light scent of vanilla that was perfuming the air.

She gestured gracefully at the gown. "Is he pleased?"

It took every molecule of effort his body had to offer but he managed to nod through his lust induced fog. Finally his voice came back to him, sounding gruff and hoarse. "Jus' waitin' on yer slow ass, Crazy. Let's go."

He turned, striding out towards the mule, pretending he hadn't seen the forlorn look on her beautiful face when he ignored the hand she'd held out. He climbed into the driver's seat, ignoring the looks of disapproval from his crew mates when he refused to offer her a hand up.

Wash stepped forward, bowing deeply and eliciting a laugh as he helped River up. Mal glared at Jayne. "Remember, yer her employee. Just pretend like you ain't a nasty _hun dan_, _dong ma_?"

Jayne rolled his eyes but nodded. As he started the engine he struggled to keep his thoughts on the evening ahead. Then guns. Then knives. Then Mal naked. Then Reavers.

Anything but the goddess in the backseat.


	3. Chapter 3

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Man you guys are all so freakin' awesome. I reckon begging for reviews is pretty tacky, but I've got to admit it sure speeds up the writing process (though I suppose that's largely my ego talking). Either way, I'm so grateful people keep taking the time to voice their opinions :)

**HELP! **Just joined twitter (name is FriskyFirelily) and must admit I have little to no idea what I'm doing…suggestions?

* * *

Langston Estate was enormous, hundreds of acres of vineyard, flower gardens, and the massive mansion where the party was held. Jayne to stay calm as they pulled up the long drive, not wanting to blow their cover before they had even arrived. River hadn't said a word the entire ride and was now sitting regally in the back of the mule as Jayne dismounted. The night was cool enough that she should have been wearing a jacket, but she didn't shiver. He narrowed his eyes when she didn't move, annoyed when she simply arched an elegant brow.

The sky rumbled, light droplets promising heavy rains.

He sighed, relenting to reach out his hand, trying not to think about how small and soft her own was as she gracefully stepped down.

_Running one large hand up that slim, creamy thigh, skin like silk against his palm._

Her mask was in place, as was his, and as the valet accepted the keys to the mule Jayne was reminded of why he hated Core worlds so damn much. The place was enormous, a huge entrance hall with thick red carpet, lines of servers offering champagne to the guests as they entered. Heavy tapestries, ornate woodcarvings, an enormous marble staircase that flared down into the sunken ballroom – seriously, why did rich people need all this _go se_?

An elderly couple decked out in diamonds next to him were praising the decor. Jayne was flicking his eyes around the room, pinpointing every exit, every possible weapon, sizing up every person and their potential threat level. One older man had a cane with a pronounced handle – Jayne reckoned there was a blade inside. A man almost as tall as him walked passed looking threatening, but Jayne could recognise show muscles from real ones – the man would be useless in a fight. There were armed guards stationed discreetly throughout the room, each packing a advanced Magnum laser hand canon, capable of stunning or obliterating from two hundred feet.

Nice.

One of the guards was favouring his right leg, indicating some kind of injury. Jayne continued to scan – the entrance hall was vast, and a head start never hurt anybody.

River waved one hand dismissively, already slipping into her role. As a bodyguard Jayne wasn't offered a glass, but stole one nonetheless, downing it quickly and thumping it back on the tray. River didn't even glance at his crass behaviour as she moved gracefully towards the entrance to the ballroom.

She turned, pinning him with a sharp glance before flicking her eyes to the little man doing the announcements. Jayne stifled a groan as he pulled out the card Inara's contacts had procured, handing it over to the announcer, who took it without even looking up. Jayne cleared his throat – Inara had said that guards demanded respect on behalf of their employers, and this little man was annoying him.

The announcer gave an irritated sniff as he looked up...and up…and up. Jayne gave him a smirk, enjoying the way the little man suddenly seemed far less haughty when faced with a solid wall of muscle.

Rain pounded against the windows.

River stepped out from behind Jayne. He suddenly realised that she'd been using him as some kind of subtle sight shield ever since they had entered the building, and now, looking at the way the announcer was staring at her, he thought he understood why.

Undue attention too early was unwelcome. She obviously caught the tail end of that thought, giving him an approving nod and small, private smile.

_Kissing her til her lips turned red and neither one of them had oxygen left._

He tried to ignore the urge to knock out a couple of the announcer's teeth as the other man continued to stare at River, open mouthed. For her part she only gave him a perfunctory, regal nod before turning towards the staircase.

Jayne moved to stand slightly behind River, to her right, just like Inara had said. Bodyguards and escorts didn't walk side by side with their employer, always standing slightly back to watch for threats and show deference and respect.

He looked down into the vast ballroom. Several hundred guests, all decked out in the finest jewels, their richest clothes, were milling about. Some were dancing, others eating, all drinking. Some were standing in small, tight groups, conversing quickly, whilst others toured the room, smiling and chatting with everyone with whom they came into contact. Every person, right down to the waiters who flitted seamlessly through the crowd, were wearing masks. Some were ornate and dramatic, laden with feathers, sequins and frills. Others were designed to look like animals of some kind, boars and bears, ostriches and peacocks.

Rich people were weird.

He tried not to stare at the way the lights made the pale skin of River's back glow golden.

_Running his hand down her spine, leaving streaks of gun oil agains the porcelain skin before he tore the dress clean off her._

The little man cleared his throat as River stood at the top of the stairs.

"The Countess Aurora Della Fuego, and escort."

Thunder rumbled outside.

As heads turned in the direction the sound of chatter and laughter seemed to die down to silence. Jayne watched in awe as River held herself straight, gracefully taking to the stairs, looking for all the world like she'd been born in those shoes, in that dress, like she did this every day. He had to remind his feet to start moving, began stalking down behind her, aware that his face was like stone.

It shouldn't have surprised him, he supposed, that River was immediately approached. The man was medium height and build, blonde hair and sharp green eyes sweeping over River's form. His mask was covered in bright red feathers, clashing with his tailored grey tuxedo horribly. He gave her a simpering smile as he bent at the waist, taking her hand and kissing the air above it.

He straightened. "Countess Della Fuego, I don't believe I've had the pleasure."

Something in the man's tone made Jayne want to deck him, an impulse River quashed with a quick, slashing glance. The eyes she turned to the other man were warm, her smile radiant.

_Those perfect pink lips wrapped around his dick while those big brown eyes stared up at him._

"Lord Carmichael, so pleased to finally meet you. My father has sent me in his place tonight," she gave him the slightest of apologetic pouts. "He's so very sorry he couldn't make it, his health does not permit him much travel these days."

Carmichael nodded. "Of course, my dear. You will send my best, won't you? And who is this young man with you?"

The sneer in Carmichael's voice when he referred to Jayne did not go unnoticed, but River simply tossed a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "My bodyguard, Vincent. You know how protective father can get. Vincent, this is our host, Lord Carmichael."

The other man didn't extend his hand and Jayne gave nothing more than a perfunctory nod. River gave him a quick glance of approval before turning away.

Jayne had just observed a phenomenon he'd never experienced before – high class social interaction. It was obvious Carmichael had never heard of any Count Della Fuego, but still he nodded politely, accepted the apology graciously, and excused himself to greet other guests.

Huh.

Rich folk were really fuckin' weird.

He stalked slowly behind River as she slipped through the room, watching her carefully. He'd never really thought about her Core upbringing before, the crazy girl or ass kicking psychic didn't seem to lend themselves to class, but he had to admit she knew what she was doing. Holding herself straight, gliding gracefully, she reminded him of Inara, never seeming rushed or flustered, accepting greetings with a radiant smile and deferential nod.

_Wrapping one hand possesively in those chocolate curls while he took her from behind over the dining table, her hands slick with sweat as they tried to find purchase against the smooth surface._

This was exactly why Mal had wanted her here – she politely inquired about people's children by name, said her father was most fascinated by a recent article written by one guest, charming another with her bright laugh. Since Miranda he knew she'd managed to kill off most of the ghosts that had haunted her for so long, but Jayne had never seen her quite so…comfortable.

It wasn't the people, he could tell that. The way her smile would stiffen minutely when a gentleman took her hand, her eyes sharpening slightly when a woman would give her those ridiculous air kisses. Simon had once said that feeling like part of the crew had played a big role in River's recovery. Jayne thought maybe that's what he was seeing – she liked feeling useful, helpful, a part of the crew.

He tried not to notice the looks she was getting from around the room. Envy and jealousy, desire and lust, her presence was creating a definite stir. It didn't help that he was meant to be watching for threats and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her.

She bent to shake the hand of a seated man.

_Gripping that perfect ass tighter and tighter while she rode him hard, seeing the bruises later and remembering._

Jayne gulped.

As he watched her move, simple gown and simple mask standing out against the crowd of gaudy decorations and gaudier people, he realized something. They weren't just staring because she was beautiful, or because she moved like she was dancing as she walked around the room; they stared because she was something else. Even fitting in so well she stood out. Here amongst the finest gowns, the wealthiest inhabitants of the Core, she represented something better, something richer, cleaner, more stunning than the jewels and fripperies they had surrounded themselves with.

She was free.

She was dressed well, appropriately, but nothing about her was overdone, nothing seemed to scream 'look at me, think something of me, witness my status' like the rest of these fops did. The masks on their face were just the current indulgence – these people wore masks all the damn time. The clothes, the overly styled hair, the dripping jewels, the mannerisms, all of it was a statement, a role, a suit of carefully constructed armour.

Everybody else in the room was wearing so many layers of proverbial clothes that they could barely move.

Even with her mask and clothes River was bare naked. Any mystery wasn't a creation, she wasn't attempting to entice or convince, she simply did.

_Hearing her voice transform from a gentle whisper to harsh pants and wild gasps as he flipped slender legs over his shoulders and tasted her._

He was suddenly reminded of his mother's old stories about Felinia's, mythological beasts, women who could turn into cats at will.

"_They haunt men's dreams, sneakin' inta their minds at night, the only time they can really appear human. You won't ever see anythin' more beautiful in yer whole damn life. If you ain't careful they'll steal yer heart and then take yer soul with it."_

He watched her prowl gracefully through the room, ignoring the tugging sensation in his chest.

_Licking the sweat from her neck, biting down on the delicate bone of her clavicle while she screamed his name, pounding into her._

All he had to do was continue following her around the room. The Feds hadn't requested a specific target, had only wanted to draw on any information she could pick up throughout the large gathering. He swiped a slab of roast beef from the food table and leaned on a nearby pillar, chewing it thoughtfully as she delicately moved through the room.

The pelting rain continued.

A brush against his shoulder, the sickly sweet scent of perfume stinging his nostrils. He turned, looking the newcomer in the eye. Thick blonde ringlets held stiffly in place, red dress hugging every full curve, dripping in diamonds, the gold mask leaving her red lips bare, exposed in a flirtatious smile.

Exactly the kind of woman he usually went for, and from the way she was smiling at him Jayne knew he wouldn't have a hard time convincing her to sneak away to a quiet corner. Only…only he didn't want to sneak away, didn't want those false nails running over his skin, didn't want her thick hips or ample breasts.

_Feeling her nails scour his back as he thrust into her slim body, one hand pinning hers above her head so he could watch her tits bounce in time with his thrusts._

He knew what he wanted. Something cleaner, richer, more stunning than this average woman could ever be. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. What the ruttin' hell was wrong with him?

The newcomer, who he dubbed Candy, nodded at him. "And just who might you be?"

He looked away to watch River. "Vincent, Countess Aurora's escort."

There was little he could do to disguise the Rim accent and the woman obviously picked up on his tone. "I'm Lady Selena. You're not from around here are you?"

He glanced at her before flicking his eyes back over the floor. "No."

She wasn't put off by his shortness or curt tone. "Well where are you from, handsome?"

A man was bowing to River, kissing her hand for a moment too long, standing the tiniest bit to close. They had signals, she'd let him know if she needed any help, but when her tinkling laugh rang out at something the man had said Jayne felt his blood begin to heat in his veins. River obviously picked up on his distress, turning and lifting a worried eyebrow at him, looking away when he gave her a quick shake of his head.

_Watching her face change as her cries became screams as she spun out of control, tumbling over the edge._

The man was gesturing to the dance floor, taking River's hand respectfully as he moved them into the crowd. Jayne wasn't surprised the girl could dance, Simon had talked about it long enough, but seeing her that way, face open and delighted, her smile radiant as she was spun and twirled…

She always did love to dance.

"Did you hear me? Where are you from?"

Jayne was silent as he watched River's movements across the floor. The man suddenly pulled her closer, tighter, one hand skimming down her bare back. Jayne saw her eyes widen, her smile drop. Saw the way she was trying to subtly regain her personal space, saw her eyes flash as she tried to stay calm.

He didn't even look at the woman as he grunted. "Somewhere else."

He pushed through the crowd, uncaring of the disgruntled noises of the guests around him, eager to get to River. A well placed elbow worked wonders. He tried to calm himself – this was a party, they needed information if they wanted to get paid. His eyes narrowed as he neared them. No problem, he could do subtle.

_Beating the man to a bloodied pulp and pulling her outside, tearing away whatever she had under that dress and fucking her against a brick wall in the pounding rain._

Well…he could try.


	4. Chapter 4

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

Jayne ignored the brief softness of River's dress against his hand as he grabbed the simpering idiot's wrist from its position against River's behind. It took little force to tear the man's arm away, twisting it deftly behind his back and holding it there, Jayne's free hand grapping around his neck. The greasy little idiot whimpered as his eyes watered, snivelling when Jayne's grip tightened further. One hard yank and the whole arm would be pulled out of the socket.

Jayne smirked; he could almost hear the pop.

Suddenly a small hand was wrapped around his bicep, stilling his movement before he dislocated the man's shoulder. He traced the hand, cool even through his suit jacket, to its owner, coming face to face with intense brown eyes behind a black mask. River's face was impassive but her eyes…Jayne wasn't quite sure what he was seeing in those eyes but he knew that whatever she said next he would obey.

And enjoy it.

People were looking at them, eyes flicking between the slim, elegant girl and her oversized defender. A quiet titter over the music, a hint of rumours to come, the words 'scandal' and 'affair' flying about. Jayne wondered how hard Mal would punch him if he screwed up this job by picking a fight with a Core dandy.

He wondered if River could fix this...and what her breasts would look like slick with sweat.

She quirked a brow coolly, brown eyes locked on blue as she addressed the snivelling man between them. "Lord Templeton, my apologies. Vincent must have mistaken our dancing for something improper and he can sometimes be a little…overzealous."

He watched her mouth form the word, unable to look away.

For his part Templeton nodded bravely, still very aware of the huge man pinning his arm to his back with the ease of someone who hurt people for a living.

River's eyes were still locked on Jayne's. "Perhaps a walk in the garden will cool his head. Please excuse us."

She turned, smoothly slipping through the crowd towards the large terrace window without a backwards glance at either man. Jayne was briefly furious at her assumption that he'd follow her out without question, positive that he would obey.

_Go se_. He would.

He tightened his grip once, threateningly, growling into the man's ear. "Touch 'er again an' I'll take yer arm as a trophy."

He dropped Templeton's arm, ignoring the look of relief on his face as he strode after River. Outside the rain had eased, leaving the air cool with the threat of more to come. The terrace River had chosen led out to a flower maze, carefully pruned roses artfully positioned throughout the dense green foliage.

He knew he could have jeopardized the job, knew they needed the credits they were earning something fierce, especially with the littlest Washburne on its way. Still didn't mean he liked being told off like a bad puppy.

He growled with annoyance when he couldn't immediately see her, forced instead to follow the faintest scent of vanilla through a side path. The path was small, barely visible, leading away from the stylish gardens to a slightly overgrown area. This part felt different, wilder, night blooming flowers growing where they pleased, the foliage thick with vines and ivy.

In the centre of the small courtyard there was a fountain; not the magnificent stone and marble creations that were carefully positioned around the estate, but a small rock pool, wild water lilies floating gently as water tinkled down the little natural waterfall.

He wasn't surprised to find River amongst all this wild plant life, turning away from the carefully pruned gardens, preferring the rough and free to the stylishly clipped. For all that she was fitting in beautifully at this party she still didn't belong here with these people. The only light came from a single gas lamp, sending shadows all over the unkempt area.

He tried not to feel pleased that she chose the wild over the civilized so easily.

She was sitting on the stone wall of the rock pool, running her fingers through the water, skimming a hand over lilies as she passed them. Where her legs were crossed the slit in her dress had left an expanse of lean thigh bare, glowing in the lamplight.

He stifled a groan.

She turned to look at him, brown eyes piercing, and Jayne couldn't shake the feeling that she was awaiting his arguments before she passed judgement.

He sighed, wondering if he phrased his excuses just right she'd let this go. "He was treatin' ya like a whore."

Ah well, he'd never claimed to be a diplomat anyhow.

She stood and Jayne ignored the pang of disappointment when the material her dress moved to cover her leg once more. "Inappropriate and unwelcome, maybe, but not worth destruction."

He was getting annoyed, his accent thickening as his voice became a growl. "So yer alright wit' guys like that pawnin' at ya? Mal wanted me here ta help protect ya, he didn't say ya needed to be actin' like no whore."

She was fifteen years younger than him but the regal, imperious look on her face made him feel all of three years old. "Better he simply think something without ever taking action?"

There was a tension in the air, an unpleasant feeling as if a trap was about to be sprung. Jayne trod wearily. "Thoughts ain't no problem – action's what gets ya in trouble."

She tilted her head to the side, giving him the unpleasant impression of being stripped bare. "Actions may speak louder than words, but for a Reader thoughts are louder still."

The wind was picking up slightly, the air beginning to cool further as the finest mist began to sprinkle down. She sighed, moving past him back towards the party. She stilled for a moment, turning her head back slightly.

"At least his actions and thoughts align."

She knew. _Tamade_, she knew.

He stood motionless as she turned her head back towards the party. "At least he doesn't hide behind his actions when his thoughts scream for something else."

He couldn't figure out the exact source of his anger; her tone, the fact that she was putting all those impossible thoughts in his head, the way the lamplight gave her skin that ethereal, unearthly glow.

Didn't matter.

He spun then, grabbing her arm hard enough to leave a bruise, pulling her tight against his chest. He was breathing heavily as he stared her down, intensely aware of the slim, cool body pressed against him.

"You callin' me a coward girl?"

She stared back, a definite challenge that made his heart beat loudly in his ears, her eyes like fire as she locked him in place with her gaze. He noticed her breathing change, felt his body becoming acutely aware of hers, his eyes drawn inexplicably to her mouth, her lips opening slightly. He didn't hesitate, didn't question his reasons, couldn't think of anything but those perfect pink lips and what they must taste like.

He leant forward to find out.

So close he could feel her breath on his lips. So close to heaven or hell and happy to hurtle towards both.

And yet, so very far.

His progress was halted when her free hand came up, wrapping around his jaw, those sharp nails pressing into his cheeks almost hard enough to draw blood. Those flashing, fiery eyes looked dark and dangerous as she pushed him backwards with enough force that he had to take a step or lose his balance.

She studied him coolly. "I am no man's whore."

The rain was picking up as she turned, moving swiftly and gracefully back up the wild path, back to the bright lights and neat gardens, back to civilization. As Jayne stood a minute longer, staring at the way her ass looked in that dress long after she'd disappeared from sight, he let out a frustrated groan.

_Ma de,_ it was gonna be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **This was meant to be a two or three parter at best…bloody thing…On another note, just hit 40 reviews! Thanks darlings :)

* * *

Evil.

All women, no matter their age, class, or status, were evil. And he was stuck at this _gorram_ party with a woman whose evil made all other evil look…like something less…evil. Jayne grabbed another glass of champagne off a tray and downed it quickly, refusing to take his eyes off River.

As soon as they'd stepped back inside she'd dived back into the festivities. Jayne thought she was being charming before, now she was being ruthless, delighting, enchanting and intriguing everyone she came into contact with. Men were falling over themselves, begging for dances, women were complimenting her dress, and she was currently being whisked over the floor by yet another Core bred idiot.

Honestly, she was putting 'Nara to shame.

No one else in the room seemed to notice the almost predatory glint in her eyes as she worked her magic, nobody else could recognise this for the warpath that it was. He wondered how many fools she'd plucked secrets from, how many people had been so blown away by the subtle charm that their minds were ripe for the plucking.

He current dance partner whispered something in her ear.

He clenched one hand into a fist, struggling to control the jealousy that swept through him, about to act when she shot him a pointed, frozen glare. She turned away just as quickly but the effect was the same as if she'd chained him to something – he was being given an order, and fuck if he wasn't ready to obey.

Still, something about her behaviour was off, and when she laughed flirtatiously at something her dance partner said Jayne finally figured out what it was that was bothering him. Her eyes had flicked in his direction, barely for a millisecond, but enough that he noticed. He smirked to himself.

She was watching his reaction.

She _wanted _him to react.

Well, wasn't that just peachy.

* * *

Mal narrowed his eyes at the wave. "Badger, the hell're you talkin' about?"

The little man sighed in irritation. "Look, ya mentioned ya had people goin' ta that party, so when I noticed I called ya. Seems that there are other players in wha'ever game's bein' played. Least three assassins."

Mal groaned as Zoe entered, one hand pressed against her swollen stomach. "Problem, sir?"

Mal nodded. "Seems that way – Badger here reckons there's a wetworks squad casin' the party."

Zoe's eyes narrowed at Badger, the little man shrinking back slightly. "Is that so?"

Badger nodded. "Look, I wouldn'ta bothered ya with it at all, only…"

Mal raised an eyebrow at the embarrassed expression on Badger's face and rolled his eyes. "Only you knew it was River goin' in and ya just couldn't help checkin' up on her?"

Badger's delight with River was well known – ever since she'd handed him his proverbial behind the Dyton native enjoyed chatting with her. Mal couldn't for the life of him figure out why River didn't mind the little git hanging about, but whenever he wanted to question her she'd just pin him with those big brown eyes and tell him to look under the rat mask.

Mal didn't really know what she meant, but when Kaylee had informed him that Badger gave a good per cent of his profits to Persephone's orphanages he'd decided to keep his mouth shut.

Badger narrowed his eyes. "Look, only reason I called was cuz I've got the hit list, friend o' a friend was kind enough to donate."

Mal nodded, his appreciation only partly feigned as the file was sent through. He didn't like the idea of River being the only player in this little game, especially when she only had Jayne to back her up. Not that those two couldn't cause quite the violent scene if they were so inclined, but it had been impossible to get more tickets and Langston Estate was a black zone for ear wigs.

Zoe flipped open the list, skimming quickly down, eyes widening. "Sir, we've got a problem."

Mal stifled a groan, running his hands over his face.

"Of course we do."

* * *

The last time Jayne had wanted to kiss a woman on the mouth he'd been thirteen years old. He'd shot up early, nearing six feet, and people didn't seem to like a giant Cobb hanging around their kids. So when he finally found a girl who he liked, and who seemed to like him back, it had been a godsend. Three months of chasing after Marcy Greene had been about to pay off – there she was, flowers in hand, smiling at him like he'd given her the moon, closing her eyes and leaning forward…

Jayne idly scratched his jaw where Mr Greene had broken it. Damn thing had to be wired shut, and he wasn't allowed near Marcy again.

Almost twenty years ago and he could still remember the hiding he'd been given. Course, after his Ma had taken him to the doctor she'd taken a shot gun round to the Greene's place and said if any of them ever laid a hand on her boy again she'd blown them into the black.

The Greenes backed off, but Jayne had left as soon as he turned seventeen, and hadn't tried to kiss a girl since.

Until tonight.

Little minx had shot him down faster than a drunk Mal on Unification Day. It didn't matter that he was 32 now, didn't matter that he was six foot four and had been with more whores then most people had had hot meals. For a few minutes he'd been transported back to that day at the Greene's farm, Mr Greene shouting as he knocked Jayne around that no Cobb boy Rim trash would ever be good enough for his girl. Course, then he'd noticed the way River was studying his reaction to her behaviour and suddenly things were making sense.

She _wanted_ him.

So why the _guay_ did she push him away so quick? He watched her being spun by another overzealous fop, watched the minute wrinkle of her nose when said fop put his hand slightly too low on her bare back.

Nobody's whore.

Around him party goers were engaging in some kind of strange, overly disguised courtship. Married women flirted with waiters, men were visibly studying the 'talent' while their wives made eyes at their business partners. He'd overheard a discussion between two old men – the first man's company needed land to expand into, the other man needed a wife.

Luckily the first man had a daughter.

Amongst all the masks tonight people were trading themselves, each other, their employees and their spouses for whatever social or financial advantage they were seeking. Jayne scowled. Things might be fancier on the Core, but damned iffen they weren't stupider. Out on the Rim you met somebody and got hitched. If you didn't want to get hitched you went to a cathouse to get taken care of whenever the need to you.

Handed over money, got sex. No lies, no deceit.

Two different kinds of whores; one honest, the other wearing a mask.

And here was River in the centre of it all, carefully enticing and enchanting the people around her to say more than they'd ever know. As much as she liked helping her ship, as much as she wanted to be a part of the crew, the crazy girl wasn't enjoying this particular role at all.

He smirked to himself. Nobody's whore, huh? Seemed she was playing the role for Mal just fine, though not in the traditional sense. And if the crazy girl thought she could get him hot under the collar well…

Turnabout's fair play.

**A/N: **Just a little warning for the next chapter...**SMUT!**


	6. Chapter 6

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Urgh, sorry my posting isn't as snappy as usual – I'm blaming **GoddessofBirth **for luring me into her tangled web of social networking! Sigh, love it. :D As promised, gentle readers, **SMUT!**

**

* * *

**

Martin Black exhaled, a steady stream of smoke escaping his lips. He adjusted the silk vest, mindful of his cigarette ash, flicking the butt down and crushing it carefully. He bent, picking up the remnants and slipping them into his pocket.

No need to leave a trace.

He looked out over the rooftop. The team were all weaponing up, prepared for to take their positions. They knew the blueprints, knew the guard stations like the backs of their hands. He adjusted the mask, careful not to damage the material. Masquerades – would the rich ever learn? Such easy targets, especially at a party like this one. The music thumped through over the gardens below.

Honestly, who didn't have security on the roof these days?

He turned to the group in front of him. Matching black gear, weapons locked and loaded, ready to annihilate. Their benefactor had the brilliant idea that if they caught their target they could request ransom. Considering that their last mission had been a measly attack on a free clinic Martin didn't mind the idea of some extra credits.

He turned to Johnson, second in command.

"You have your targets?"

"Yessir."

"You know what the signal is?"

"Yessir."

"Tia is in place, I'm heading down to meet her now."

"Yessir."

Martin narrowed his eyes. "Johnson?"

"No mistakes."

* * *

Jayne was leaning against a pillar, wondering about the best way to bait River, when the answer strolled up to him. The blonde from earlier in the night gave him a sultry smile, looking up at him through her lashes coquettishly.

Inwardly he tasted bile at the look of desperation in her eyes. Outwardly he gave her a grin.

"Missed me, huh?"

She nodded. "Seems you ran away for a while there; boss giving you trouble?"

Jayne flicked his eyes over to where River was smiling flirtatiously at her current dance partner. "Like ya wouldn't believe."

He saw brown eyes dart towards him, taking in his companion and looking away just as quickly.

Perfect.

He turned fully to the other woman. "Selena, right?"

She smiled, "That's me."

Jayne let his eyes drift over the tight red dress hugging her ample curves, running his tongue over his teeth appreciatively. The effect was immediate, her lips pursing with interest as he took a step closer. He had seen her talking to other women earlier, and wasn't surprised when she turned, waving her friends over.

Inwardly he scowled. He'd seen Core ladies like these before, knew what they wanted, hell he'd bedded more than his fair share of fancy ladies who wanted an escape. He let his accent thicken, let them enjoy playing with the Rim trash, let them get the taste of danger they were after. The four of them were tittering and giggling, eyes travelling over his body as they practiced their innuendos and flirted.

He was so strong.

He was so tall.

He had such a big gun.

Had he ever killed anyone?

Was there a Mrs Vincent?

In his head his was wondering whether their necks would break as flimsily as the fabric of their dresses. He'd start with the blonde and work his way through, nice and quick.

Outwardly he smirked and leered, letting them think he enjoyed the little touches to his arms, his chest. Core women like this spent their whole lives looking for the richest man who would take them on and then wanted nothing more than to hear their name growled in a Rim accent by someone who tasted of sweat and earth. Every outfit, every smile, every word was calculated to lure in and catch the wealthiest man available, and every day after was spent dreaming of calloused hands and skin bronzed from working in the fields. Muscles and violence versus silk sheets and diamonds.

Wealthy men provided, Rim boys were something else.

He knew she was watching him, could feel her eyes on him whenever he leant forward, pretending to be fascinated by whatever inane comment the tarts in front of him were making. Contrary to popular belief Jayne could be charming when he wanted to. A boy from the Outer Rim didn't wind up with a rep like his without learning a thing or two about closing a deal. Hell, he may not have had manners but it weren't hard ta pretend ta listen and grin. Oh yeah, he could be charming.

He just never wanted to.

River was being handed a glass of champagne by a man who looked old enough to be her father and sleazy enough that he only spoke to her chest. Jayne felt her glance at him and carefully catalogued his ammunitions supplies in his head, not wanting her to know he was thinking on her.

The blonde was smiling at him as her friends gave her not so subtle glances, goading her on. She was standing close enough that he could feel her heat through his jacket, the cloying scent of her perfume thickening the air and annoying him.

She lowered her lashes as she purred at him. "So, Vincent, think you could slip away for a walk in the gardens?"

In his peripheral vision he saw River's head snap up, felt her eyes blaze against his neck, saw her politely excuse herself and walk back out through the terrace. He smirked to himself, which the blonde seemed to take as a positive sign, placing one manicured hand on his arm and rubbing a languid circle.

She followed his eyes to River. "Come on, your boss won't mind. Besides, you've been looking at the skinny little thing so long you must be dying for a..." She pressed her chest against the arm she was rubbing.

"Real woman."

Jayne looked her up and down. "Ya know, yer right."

As her friends gave each other knowing looks Jayne pushed himself up from the pole, uncaring of the slight stumble the blonde made when he pulled his arm away. "Think I'll go get one."

As he strode away he didn't glance back, so he didn't see the furious, dangerous eyes that followed him.

* * *

Mal groaned as Kaylee's previously apologetic tone hardened with annoyance.

"Cap'n, I already told ya I cain't send 'em no waves – it's a black out zone and neither o' them have portable comms."

He looked at Wash. "Anythin' ya can do? We blow this cover we're puttin' 'em both at risk."

Before Wash could answer an aggravated Simon hissed. "Something tells me that being in a roomful of assassins is fairly risking already!"

Book put a hand on the doctor's shoulder, stopping his incessant pacing. "Son, we've got to approach this logically. We'll do neither of them any good if we don't handle this properly."

Simon visibly worked to calm himself, sitting down beside his wife and staying silent as Mal and Zoe tried to think of a way to reach River and Jayne without blowing their cover.

Wash looked at the list for the hundredth time. "They've got her down as the Countess Della Fuego – maybe they just think she's somebody important?"

Mal let out a huff of annoyance. "And just how the sam hell does that help us?"

Zoe stood. "Well it means they've at least got surprise on their side, sir. If they don't know bout River they won't know what hit 'em."

Mal looked relieved for a moment before groaning once more. "Urgh, two violent crazy folk who're armed. This is gonna be bad."

* * *

The rain had eased, barely a light mist once more. It scented the damp air, settling on the wet grass, leaving micro droplets on his face and hair.

He knew where she was. When he entered the wild part of the garden she was taking of her shoes, pressing her toes into the dirt and closing her eyes. Whatever she was doing seemed to calm her down, since she cracked them open and shook her head.

She looked disappointed.

Jayne found he hated disappointed.

"Always a challenge."

He narrowed his eyes. "Girl, I ain't got the slightest idea what yer on about."

She glared at him for a moment before looking back down at her feet, slipping those impossibly high stilettos back on. "You did not wish to accompany her here."

He scoffed. "Why the hell would I wanna follow ya round like yer maid?"

She looked briefly hurt before narrowing her eyes, her tone icy. "Because Daddy dearest didn't think anyone would believe you could be a husband."

Jayne felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and his voice was an angry growl. "Ain't nobody gonna believe yer someone's wife either, Crazy girl."

She gave him a wry smile, her eyes sharp behind her mask. "Been here three hours, already had two proposals."

He took a step forward, irritated when she didn't step back as he advanced. "Congrats, Crazy. Iffen yer gonna be someone's whore it might as well be a rich man."

She stared up at him, her tone challenging and her eyes furious behind the mask. "Green doesn't suit you, man with girl's name."

Another growl, another step forward. "Girl, the day I'm jealous o' some asshole who wants yer skinny ass'll be the day hell freezes over."

"Rejection stings like barbed wire. Feeling cold, Jayne?"

"Plenty in there ta keep me warm, girly."

"And yet he follows this 'skinny ass' out to the garden."

"Jus' makin' sure yer _Daddy _don't get mad."

"Desperate to attempt another kiss?"

"Yer crazy iffen ya think I'd wanna kiss you."

She quirked a brow.

"Er…crazier. Girl I ain't got nuthin' I want from you."

"He wants the same as every other man in the room."

"He can get it better somewhere else."

"Hungry for one drink of water, trying to tease into submission."

"An' you weren't starin' at me while ya was workin' on yer companionin' in there?"

"Just making sure he didn't need her to rescue him again."

"Girl don't ya dare be bringin' that up."

"Or what? He'll stop me, like on the Maiden Head?"

"I'm warnin' you girly."

"Jayne knows he could never beat her."

"Seriously girl, watch yer tongue."

"Like Marcy Greene did?"

The mist became light droplets of rain against his face.

He was seething, seeing red as she glared up at him. His next step forward placed him towering over her, trapping her against the stone wall with one hand against her throat, calloused hands wrapped around night cool skin. He went to speak when something sharp pricked his neck.

Brown eyes flashed as she pressed the blade slightly tighter against the skin of his throat.

Where the hell had she been keeping that?

He could snap her neck from this position. She'd have his jugular open before his fingers tightened. They were at an impasse, eyes locked, breathing heavy, air thick with cruel taunts and harsh words.

He leant forward, close enough to heat the air above her lips, blue eyes boring into brown. "Watch yer mouth girl."

He felt her chest rising with her heavy breathes, saw the fury and lust behind the mask, felt her shiver against him.

"Make me."

The skies opened as Jayne snapped, uncaring of the blade at his throat as he snarled, pressing his lips against hers hard enough to bruise.

Silk. Honey. Salty and sweet and soft and warm.

She moaned into his mouth as his free hand found the slit in her dress, wrapping around the lean thigh and pulling it up over his hip. He groaned as she brought her other leg up, pressing her against the wall as he let go of her throat and tangled his hand in her hair.

The hand holding the knife wrapped around the back of his neck, blade falling to the ground as the other hand unzipped his pants and took his length. He felt her eyes fly open when she felt the weight, the girth, and he pulled back to give her a nasty smirk as she paused, looking suddenly worried. He pulled down the front of her dress, growling at the sight of the milky white skin, the dusky nipples. He hitched her up, bringing her breasts to his face and worrying a nipple with his tongue.

She gasped, her legs tightening around his waist as her hand started pumping unsteadily. He hissed, grazing his teeth over her nipple as her hand kept up that delicate, unsure movement around his cock. He could feel the heat of her centre pressing against his stomach as he kept one armed wrapped around her, the other travelling down and under the dress.

Nothing.

No material barrier to that slick, hotter'n holy hell entrance between her thighs. He paused for a second, looking up at her in shock, but the sight of her eyes screwed shut, her mouth an 'o' of pleasure as he stroked her core reminded him that he had better things to do then wonder about her lack of underwear.

He slipped a finger inside her, groaning at the wet tightness, her mewl of pleasure ringing through his ears. Another joined, his thumb rubbing her clit, making her squirm and press against him tighter. He removed his hand, ignoring her hiss of protest as he lined up the head of his cock to her entrance.

The rain poured down as she froze in place, coating her skin, her hair plastering to her neck as little rivulets ran down her breasts. She was breathing heavily, panting, and as he lowered her slightly until they were face to face, his head just barely pressing against her slickness.

His voice was a hoarse growl. "Ya wanted action instead o' thoughts, girl? How's this."

Before she could open her mouth he pushed up in one swift movement.

* * *

Martin saw their contact, nodded his head at the blonde. He clicked his fingers once, the sound hitting the ears of his nearest teammate, who relayed it to the others at their hiding points around the room.

The party goers shrieked as more than twenty black clad men appeared throughout the ballroom, semi-automatics pointed as they shouted orders. The estate guards whipped out their own weapons as all hell broke loose.

* * *

The cry that rang through her throat was liquid gold, a mix of pain and pleasure as he broke through her barrier. He kept still for a second, barely remembering to breathe as her velvety folds strangled him. For a moment he felt guilty, her slim body weighing nothing in his arms, slick with rain and sweat. A dark garden in the rain wasn't how a girl should lose herself the first time.

And then she moved.

It was a tiny, careful motion, barely a tightening of the thighs as she shifted slightly against him. His hiss of pleasure rang through the pounding rain as she moaned against his neck. He began to move, slow, careful thrusts that had her mewling, one hand wrapped around his back while the other tried to grip the wall behind her.

His dick was wrapped in the molten lava of River Tam and the sounds tearing from her throat were making his eyes cross. Her wet, bare breasts were slick against his shirt as she writhed against him, incoherent as his thrusts began to speed up. She shifted, bring up one slim thigh so it flung over his shoulder, the other wrapping tighter around his waist. The stiletto of her heel pricked into his lower back as she clung to him.

He growled at the display of flexibility, wishing briefly they were somewhere he could test it further.

Her unsteady cries were ringing in his ear; he thought he caught his name as he growled against her neck. "Like that, girly? _Tamade_…fuckin' hell…"

Each thrust was pushing the air out her throat in soft murmurs, mixing with her cries as she tried to speak. "Jay-ne…please…_ai ya_…_tian shen de_…har-der…"

He complied, pounding into her as her cries began to escalate, the slick wall offering her no grip as he fucked her. He could feel himself building, feel the minute flutter of her inner walls against him as those cries and mewls became gasps and feral snarls.

Closer, so ruttin' close, the slick skin of her thigh like cool wet slick against his hand, her fingers gripping his neck, nails piercing his skin as she gasped and cried his name into the night.

So close, so fuckin' close…

A tug at his hips, a metallic click.

**BOOM**

The gun was like a whip crack in his ear.


	7. Chapter 7

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **Man your responses to this fic are awesome! Sorry about the massive cliffhanging in the last chapter :P

* * *

Jayne had seen Marcy Greene once after the events on her father's farm. He'd been heading to the ammunitions store for more rifle rounds; his Ma's supplies had been running low. He'd left school after his beating, refusing to continue to sit in a classroom where his peers made fun of him, seeming to enjoy the story of his attempt to kiss Marcy with all the vicious glee of which children are capable.

He'd seen Marcy walking down the street, blonde hair blown around by the wind as she chatted to her friend. She looked up, saw him, and Jayne had wanted nothing more than to wave, to talk to her, to remember what it felt like to have a pretty girl smile at him.

Her eyes had filled with shame, disgust, and she'd…done nothing. She'd just walked on by.

Four years later when he'd fucked his first Core woman he saw the same look in her eyes afterwards.

* * *

Time seemed to freeze for a second as Jayne tried to become aware of his surroundings. He was fairly sure he was alive; his racing heart seemed to confirm that particular suspicion. He cracked his eyes open, having shut them reflexively against the gun blast.

Skin.

He heard shots and screaming in the distance, his ears ringing from the blast of the gun beside his head. He turned minutely to see his hand canon held by a strong, slim arm, an arm that lead back to the half-naked body he was holding up against the wall.

_Ma de._

He was alive and unharmed, buried balls deep inside River Tam, who was currently holding his side arm straight in front of her, arm reaching past his head as she stared into his eyes. Her skin was flushed and slick from where the rain continued to beat down on them, light goose bumps visible on the milky flesh in front of him.

He looked behind him, seeing the blonde from the party with whom he had been speaking earlier now lying flat on her back, a single bullet hole left right between her eyes. In the blonde's left hand he saw a pistol with a silencer attached, and when he turned back to River her eyes seemed to confirm his suspicions.

They were under attack.

Neither moved, unsure of what to do. Both of their bodies were still humming with the remnants of anticipated ecstasy, their breathing ragged as the rain pelted them with a thick blanket of water. Shock and lust and anger were all laid bare on her face, her eyes wide behind their black covering.

The mask. He hadn't taken off her mask.

He broke the stillness as he raised his hand towards her face, wanting nothing more than to tear away that feathered disguise and see her unadorned and perfect.

She wrapped slim fingers around his wrist before he could get there. As ragged as her breathing was, as much as her body was still taut with interrupted, expectant release, as much as her lips were still parted in that soft little 'o' that made his toes curl, her eyes were still filled with anger and fury and…

Shame.

His heart started beating in a different rhythm, this one pure rage at her obvious self-loathing in the face of their coupling, and he tore his wrist from her hand, pulling out of her body and stepping away.

Another Core girl, another moment of weakness followed immediately by self-hatred and shame.

She found her footing on shaky legs, opening her mouth to speak when a shriek from inside the estate drew her attention back to the problem inside. She straightened her dress, covering herself with an embarrassed, hurried movement, and Jayne thought he saw a tear slip down one pale cheek.

Probably just the rain.

She tossed him back his weapon as she swept up her knife, glancing at him once before she bolted back towards the estate, ready to tackle the issue inside.

Jayne's suit clung to him, leaching the warmth from his body, his veins still humming with anger and sexual frustration. He wanted to run, wanted to leave this place, find another ship, forget about Serenity, the crew, that girl.

Forget about all of this.

He sighed, hating this moment.

He followed her up the path.

* * *

"Cap'n, we're getting something on the wave."

Mal strode over to the comm, concern and irritation wrinkling his brow. The chatter was distorted, obviously hacked by his errant crew, but the results were nonetheless startling.

"_Shots fired….Langston Estate…backup units reques…."_

Mal turned to where Zoe was already double checking her weapons. "No Zo' yer stayin' here. Wash, Simon, Book, Inara, weapon up. We gotta get them outta there."

* * *

Jayne ran through the terrace doors just in time to see the carnage. Black clad operatives were facing off with the estate guards, and the resultant massacre was spread throughout the room. At least a quarter of the party guests had been eliminated, the rest were being held hostage at various points around the room, bound and gagged against the marble pillars.

River was hiding behind one such pillar, removing a pair of twin sai from somewhere inside her dress, and Jayne wished he knew where she had been keeping the damn things while they were fucking. She'd obviously come without any kind of fire power, and he slipped next to her before he could be spotted, holding out a hand canon without a word.

She didn't even glance at him as she shook her head, not wanting the weapon.

Even with her hair wet and her dress soaked she was still a sight to behold, gripping the sai as if she'd been born with them, darting her head out quickly to check their targets.

The shouts of the two warring factions were punctuated by occasional whimpers from their gagged hostages, and Jayne wondered how the hell the girl was planning on getting them out of this situation.

She quirked a brow, catching his last thought, and sighed. "Much learning to be done."

Before he could retort she placed one hand over his eyes and flung both sai into a nearby circuit board that had previously been concealed by a now bullet ridden curtain. The effect was immediate, the lights of the chandeliers flaring dramatically before blacking out, causing a cacophony of screams and concerned orders from the blinded inhabitants of the ballroom.

She removed her hand, allowing Jayne's eyes to adjust quickly, picking out the soft glow of the ballroom by candle light.

She moved from behind the pole, stomping the back of the nearest assassin's knee, sending him to the floor and obtaining his hefty automatic weapon in one fluid movement. She turned her bounty immediately to his compatriot, punching the butt of the gun into his solar plexus and then his head as he dropped, catching his weapon as she did so.

To Jayne's horror she then threw the weapons across the room, away from the battle rather than killing her foes.

She rolled her eyes. "Needed for interrogation."

The temporary blindness she had caused with the light flare was fading fast, and Jayne saw one man point his weapon towards River. Jayne spun out his throwing knife, catching the man square in the chest as River laid out two more guards with swift kicks that made Jayne realize exactly why Inara had chosen that particular dress; the slit wasn't restricting river's movement, and as she did a fast back handspring to reach her next opponent he wondered just how flexible the girl could be.

_Slim thigh thrown over his shoulder as her eyes screwed shut in pleasure._

He knocked out another assassin, grabbing the weapon and pulling off two shots before the next man could reach him. The guards weren't moving, aware that the two fighters were focused on the intruders, and Jayne shouted for them to get the hostages out.

"Move them rich folk outta here NOW gorram it!"

He heard River's hiss of disapproval as she dodged a low swung knife and reduced her attacker with a back hand.

_Hiss of ecstasy like music in his ears._

"Got somethin' ta say, crazy?"

He landed a heavy punch across one man's face, elbowing another in the solar plexus and snapping his neck as he fell.

"Nothing to say to you, man with girl's name."

She swung an elbow to the face of an attack from behind, dropping and spinning her leg out to trip him over.

"Seemed ya had plenty, oofph, ta say before."

_Crying out his name in the drenching rain and begging him to take her harder._

He cracked two men's heads together, the dull thud making him smirk.

"Momentary lapse in judgement."

Pulled up a pistol before her attacker could fire his shot, punch to the diaphragm winding him.

"Big words fer 'thanks for the fuck', little girl."

_Mewls of pleasure and snarls of desire. _

He was thrown back over a table, glass piercing into his back as he continued rolling, kipping to his feet and throwing the table onto its side at his attacker.

"Thanks?" She was grabbed from behind, flinging up one leg to plant her heel in her aggressor's face. "Simple confirmation of an already known fact; Jayne believes in fuck or fight, and he knows he couldn't beat the girl."

_Angry words and angrier penetration._

"Still raw 'bout bein' interrupted girl? Yer still pretty green but I'll throw ya a quickie when we finish iffen ya want."

He emptied his clip towards the ceiling, jumping back as the huge chandelier dropped on top of his assailant.

"Got what he wanted already, he can find a whore to finish the job."

She leapt over a banister, swinging under and landing a stiletto heel in an attacker's neck.

_Brown eyes behind a dark mask._

"Thought I'd already found one!"

His last gun was knocked away as another assailant pinned his arms, well placed punches to the kidneys leaving him immobile. They knocked him to his knees, two men pinning him down as the third grinned smugly. Jayne looked up to where River was suddenly still, standing in the centre of the room with four attackers surrounding her, each pointing a semi-automatic to her skull.

_Entering her and feeling white hot agonising ecstasy and overwhelming peace._

Nobody moved. The candlelight flickered, illuminating her skin, sweat and rain leaving her slick, her breathing heavy. Sometime during the battle her mask had fallen off. She flicked her eyes to Jayne, pinning him in place for a moment, and suddenly he saw it all.

Bare, naked, unmasked.

"_He looks better in red."_

_Cries ringing from her throat like liquid gold._

"_Copper for a kiss?"_

_Bare breasts slick against his shirt as she writhed against him._

"_Jayne is a girl's name."_

_Begging him for more._

Exhaustion, hurt, longing. A teenage crush grown into something more, her eyes and face revealing every hurt, every betrayal, every lost moment. He thought back to whores and Reavers, Saffron and Marcy Greene.

River.

No woman had ever looked at him like that before. His chest seized up as he realized what he was seeing, as his blood seemed to recognise a friend, a lover, a mate, as his heart pounded in his chest while he watched his girl surrounded by enemies, glowing golden in the candlelight.

A lost opportunity.

He wished he'd asked her to dance.

She closed her eyes for a brief second, a single tear slipping down her cheek before she opened them again. All the candidness her face had previously shown disappeared, leaving in its wake the feral predator he'd seen on Miranda, the wild animal he'd gotten a glimpse of when they coupled outside.

And there, somewhere buried deep down inside, was a young woman who had just had her heart broken one too many times.

Fingers tightened on triggers and Jayne wanted to shout out, desperate to run to her, but he was pinned, no way to access any weapon, no way to run to her and beg forgiveness.

Later he would wonder why everything looked like it was in slow motion, moving through water.

Her hands flicked out lightning fast to beat two of the weapons so they did a 180 flip, her fingers tightening immediately on the triggers and blasting the two men as she ducked out of the way. The other two men aimed a burst of bullets at where her head had been, only to find no target as she split onto the floor.

Their kneecaps were blown out by their comrade's weapons now in the hands of the deadliest thing the Alliance had ever created, their cries of pain ringing through the room before being cut short as their skulls were blown apart. Her movements were liquid and smooth as she dropped the semi-automatics and pulled the side arms from her neutralized attackers.

She stood as Jayne's assailants aimed shaking hands at her, their weapons pointed to her bare back, porcelain skin riddled with scratches from her battles, both the one in the ballroom and the other, more private encounter against a cold stone wall in the rain.

One of his assailants gave a nervous order. "Stop, don't move or I'll shoot!"

She didn't turn, the candlelight making her black dress appear as nothing more than a shadow, leaving only a bare back, silk shoulders, and one lean leg.

Before Jayne could knock the intruders into next week they both fell, neat bullet holes in either one of their skulls, the third struggling to breath with the hole in his chest. One stolen pistol was visible at her side, where she'd turned it on them without a backwards glance.

The dead bodies around the room were their only audience as Jayne stared at River's back. He wanted to beg her to turn, to look at her properly, to see everything he'd seen before and offer up his body, his mind, his soul as penance for the way he'd treated her, to beg her forgiveness.

He wanted her to look at him like that just one more time.

He couldn't speak.

She bent, still not turning around as she picked up her fallen mask, securing it over her face and turning her head towards the side door.

Her voice was quiet, barely audible in the deafening silence of the carnage around them. "Daddy's coming."

He stood in time to see the crew of Serenity bolting through the upper staircase. Mal stopped dead at the sight of the destroyed room before him, Wash knocking into his back and making him stumble.

The sight below was one of candlelit destruction, the strange beauty of the room and River's still form offset by the gore surrounding her. Simon thought he saw Jayne's eyes fixed solely on River's back before the big man turned blank eyes to them.

His voice sounded like gravel, and Simon wondered how much of that was to do with this battle, and how much involved River. "What they _guay _are ya doin' here?"

Mal looked to where Wash, Simon, Book and Inara were staring at the scene below. He cleared his throat, looking the slightest bit embarrassed.

"Uh…savin' you?"


	8. Chapter 8

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

She was avoiding him.

Not in a 'we're just not really talking' kind of way but in an active 'leaving the room' kind of way. Mal had praised them both after the job – River's intel had been extensive and her rendition was something impressive. They had been able to provide the Feds with a dossier as thick as Jayne's….well, it was thick.

Plus they'd left the Feds some hostages for question from what they'd later found out was the Black Night Hit Squad, a high level infiltration team that had some serious involvement with rival Pro-Alliance Core groups. Everything that she'd plucked from their brains had been documented – she'd spent almost three days working with Mal to get everything down.

Since then it had taken them two months to finalize their contract with the Feds, a lucrative offer to provide continuing intelligence in a range of areas that would keep them flying as long as they liked. Once Mal had realized that the higher ranking Federal officers were in fact former Independent soldiers he'd been thrilled to make the deal.

And she was avoiding him.

Had been for two months.

They'd landed on Paradisium, a nature reserve planet where they were to take a few days break. Zoe was getting close to giving birth, and Mal wanted to let his crew rest as they worked over schematics, files, records and reports of their future targets. Between Kaylee and Wash's mechanical know how; Mal, Zoe and Jayne's offense experience; the Simon's medical knowledge; and Inara and Book's Core world information they were proving to be an invaluable team.

The cream of the crop was, of course, River. Mal had still made sure that the Feds never met their Reader girl, but other than expounding the values of having a trained psychic whose knowledge of violence rivalled Jayne's own the Feds hadn't indicated an interest in removing her. Mal had begun crew training, each member taking the others through exercises, battle plans and a wealth of shared knowledge. Each crew member now had basic field medical training, operations systems management, familiarity and awareness of Core customs, basic military offensive strategies and an exercise regime designed for strength, endurance, and agility in battle.

Paradisium was covered in forests and greenery, and they'd set down near a lake, enjoying the silence and the privacy they had. Mal had expected Jayne to protest the lack of bars and cathouses, but the merc said he had enough booze to last a while, and he wasn't really in the mood for whoring.

Mal had stared open mouthed for a while after that.

All in all, things couldn't be going any better. The Fed's contract would allow them to use their skills, get their dose of violence, and make some steady credits in the process. For all that it was a signed document this contract represented a kind of freedom none of the crew knew they could exist, and the work that they were doing was helping the 'verse become a safer place. Jayne knew he shouldn't be finding anything to complain about.

Except…she was ignoring him.

He'd spent a few days stewing, trying to think of what he could possibly say to her, how he could make this up to her. It was during this time that Jayne remembered that thinking wasn't exactly his strong point. He had no other option.

He turned to the crew.

A year ago he knew this would have been the dumbest idea he could possible conceive. Getting thrown into the airlock, hacked into pieces, poisoned or put to sleep were all viable ramifications of an expression of interest in the ship's young Reader.

That was then, this was now.

Now he'd noticed that Kaylee and Inara shot him dirty looks whenever he tried to talk to River. Now he noticed Simon with a strange mix of worried and smug crossing his face. Now he'd seen Mal, Wash and Book in various stages of comforting the girl, or rolling their eyes at Jayne's stupidity.

They knew, had probably known far longer than he did.

Oh he didn't think they had any real idea of what had happened that night at Langston Estate – he reckoned if her brother knew the details he'd have told the Captain and made a Jayne sized coffin by now. But they definitely knew something was up, they knew it was Jayne's fault that River seemed so quiet and withdrawn, and they were uncomfortably ready to lecture him.

He went to 'Nara first.

"Uh, 'Nara, you got a minute?"

The ex-Companion gestured him into her shuttle graciously, and when Jayne entered he was confronted with a damn scary sight. All of Serenity's women, with the exception of the Reader, were convened in Inara's shuttle. Zoe was sitting comfortably on the couch, a cup of tea balanced on her stomach, whilst Kaylee leaned on a nearby wall, playing with her wedding ring.

A trap snapped shut somewhere in Jayne's mind.

"Uh…what's this?"

Kaylee rolled her eyes as Inara laughed, gesturing for him to sit down next to Zoe. "Jayne, we ain't dumb, we know there's somethin' goin' on with you an' Riv. Reckoned we should talk ta ya all at once."

Inara nodded. "Why don't you tell us what happened?"

The immediate reddening of Jayne's face made Zoe cover smile with her hand. "Jayne, we don't want the details, just tell us the basics. We've figured out the rest ourselves."

The knowing looks they shot each other made him wince.

He sighed, dropping his head against the back of the couch and running his hands over his face. "Think I'm in love wit' the girl…only…only she reckons I jus' want…ya know…"

Inara nodded. "Understood. And we're guessing you did something to upset her?"

He nodded, cringing when Kaylee shook her head admonishingly. "At the party…I mighta said…some…bad stuff. We was fightin' anyway! But…think maybe she didn't like it when I called her a whore."

Zoe paused for a second before whipping out one hand and whacking Jayne over the back of the head.

Seeing as he didn't want to tangle with Zoe on a normal day, let only when she was eight and a half months pregnant and full o' hormones, he just flinched and took the hit. "Yeah, I know…jus'…what do I do?"

Later Jayne would reflect on something his father had once told him. _"Son, the most dangerous thing in the 'verse ya can do is let a woman know ya want advice."_

Smart man.

Kaylee started in first, looking like she'd wanted to say this for months. "Ever since Miranda Riv's been growin' up, an' when she did she noticed ya. Said she'd felt somethin' ever since she came on board, reckoned ya were meant ta be. Every time she tried ta get ya ta notice her ya'd shut her down, ya big _hun dan_!"

Inara jumped in next. "Then you saw her all dressed up and suddenly figured out what we all already knew – she is beautiful. The problem with that, Jayne, is that there is so much more to her than being beautiful, and when you said what you said and did whatever it was that you did, you made her feel like all that mattered, all that you wanted, was what was on the outside."

As usual it was Zoe who delivered the killing blow. "That girl wanted ta be somethin' special to ya, even just fer one night, an' ya made her feel like she was just an available body. She's only just turned into a woman and ya took advantage of that; 'stead of getting' ta know the girl inside ya took the outside. When ya did that ya made everything she's been feelin' fer the last few months mean nothing, made it dirty."

Jayne sat in stunned silence, their words ringing through his ears. They were right, he knew it, but it still stung something fierce. She'd taken off her mask and he'd known then how much he had screwed up. All that fragile feeling crushed by a dark, violent encounter and ugly words immediately afterwards. The shame he'd seen in her eyes – that hadn't been because it was him doing the 'encountering', it had been because she'd thought he wanted nothing more than her body.

And she'd cared about him enough that she thought she could live with that.

He groaned as he sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He looked up with desperate eyes.

"Well, what can I do ta fix it?"

Inara gave him a careful look. "Do you even want to? Jayne, if all you want from River is sex then please know now that it will never happen; she loves you, she doesn't want to be just another body in your long list. If this stays damaged she'll hurt for a while but one day she'll meet someone else, someone who will treat her well and love the inside as much as the outside. And she deserves that; after everything she's been through she deserves nothing less than love. So I ask again, do you even want to fix it?"

Jayne was very quiet. He thought about soft chocolate curls and the way her face looked when she was flushed and panting. He thought about her tinkling laugh whenever Wash played with his dinosaurs, or the way she would smile when she and Simon got into a light, joking debate about medical treatments. He thought about Book doing a quick, happy waltz with her, the way her eyes lit up with joy when the preacher made her smile. He thought about when she and Kaylee would cook a meal together, quiet moments of comfortable silence punctuated by food fights and laughter. He thought about her and Mal, sitting silently on the bridge, watching the stars together. He thought about her voice when she spoke to the bulge in Zoe's stomach, the first mate smiling at the private jokes she would tell. He thought about Inara ordering that River be taken shopping for proper clothes, smiling indulgently as River showed off a pretty new dress. He thought about her taking on a roomful of Reavers and standing there; ready to fight off the next foe to protect her family.

He thought about the way she sometimes danced in the cargo bay, late at night, when she thought no one could see her.

He could see her.

Unmasked and unadorned, he could see her.

When he looked up three pairs of very different eyes were all watching him patiently, as if they knew what he was thinking. "Yeah, yeah I wanna fix it."

Inara gave him a pleased smile. "Well then, Jayne, you're going to have to make her feel like she means something to you."

Jayne nodded. "How?"

And then Zoe uttered the three most irritating words he'd ever heard.

"Figure it out."


	9. Chapter 9

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

* * *

He sat heavily at the dining table. Revealing though his conversation with the ladies of Serenity may have been in letting him know how he felt about River, they still didn't help him in the execution of said knowledge.

Women were evil.

So here he was, bottle of whisky in one hand, pouring out liberal shots to the four other men on the boat, who were looking at him with the amused eyes of people already aware of the contents of a conversation.

Bastards.

He threw back his shot, hissing at the sting of the alcohol. "I ain't gonna beg - what do I do?"

Simon raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be asking our permission to date River?"

Jayne chuckled darkly. "Doc, firstly, I ain't gonna date her. Secondly, what part of our association has lead ya ta believe I ask permission fer anythin'?"

Book frowned. "If you don't want to date her, if you're just trying to get her to sleep with you again," Mal and Simon glared, "why are you asking for our help?"

Jayne shrugged. "Never said I jus' wanted ta sleep wit' her, but I ain't a dater. Iffen I'm doin' this then the end goal is…kinda different."

That goal involved a ring, a life, a family.

Wash smirked. "Ohhh, Jayne and River, sittin' in a tree, k-i-s-s-I GACK!"

Mal rolled his eyes. "Jayne, let him go or I'll tell Zoe ya tried ta strangle her husband. Wash, quit pokin' the bear."

Jayne released Wash's neck as the pilot stifled a laugh. "Fine. Look, wit' the exception o' the preacher here, y'all've all managed ta convince girls ta be wit' ya. Jus' tell me how ya did it."

The three men smirked as Book poured another glass.

Simon started. "Well, I accidently insulted her until we were being pinned down by snarling space zombies and managed to say I wish I'd been with her."

Mal followed him. "I called her a whore til she wanted ta leave the ship, then dragged her through hell and told her ta stay."

Wash was very quiet, and Jayne narrowed his eyes on the pilot. "Well, gonna tell me 'nother smartass way ta annoy a woman inta bein' with ya?"

Wash shook his head, looking surprisingly serious. "No." He took a sip of his drink. "I waited."

Mal shook his head in disbelief. "Not three months after yer sorry ass came on this ship ya had made my first mate yer wife, how the hell does that equate ta waitin'?"

Wash shrugged. "Just does. I waited til I saw an opportunity, then I made her laugh." He sighed. "That sound…still does things to me. I wanted Zoe from the first time I laid eyes on her, all warrior woman scary in leather. I had been on the ship for a month and I'd never seen her laugh. Figured that either she had no sense of humour, or she was wound so tight that laughing was problematic. I wanted to get to know her, was shot down every time, until one day she caught me playing with the dinosaurs. Must've surprised her some cuz she just burst out into laughter. By then I knew she loved eating broccoli, I knew she sometimes listened to classical music on the bridge by herself, and then I knew that she found little pilots who played with dinosaurs funny. After that I just kept learning stuff, and I'm still doing it today. And somewhere in between all the learning I fell in love, and somewhere in between all the laughing at me she did too."

The table was silent for a few minutes.

Mal cleared his throat. "I told 'Nara that the ship felt cold without her."

Simon sighed. "I asked Kaylee how someone so perfect could be interested in a neurotic mess like myself."

Book's voice was very quiet. "I did a magic trick."

All eyes turned to the preacher, who shrugged. "I wasn't always a preacher. Long time ago I was just a kid on the street, 19 and desperate for my next meal. She was a Core girl, the daughter of a senator, and she'd ditched her guards for some alone time. Saw me, and I'd never seen anything like her. I couldn't think of a single thing to say, so I did a magic trick. Guessed what card she had. When she smiled I felt like I was ten feet tall."

Mal's voice was low and troubled. "What happened to her?"

Book sighed. "What always happens when the Core girl and the street kid fall in love; they get caught, she's whisked away to marry a rich old man who she barely knows, and he never hears from her again."

The shepherd suddenly looked very tired. "It was a long time ago, several lifetimes in fact, but I'll always remember it. She said she liked that I wanted to make her smile just because it made me happy, liked that I didn't care about anything but her."

Mal looked at Jayne. "What we're sayin', Jayne, is that we were honest. That's all. No more, no less."

Jayne was silent for a moment before he stood.

"I gotta go."


	10. Chapter 10

**TITLE: **Masquerade

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine

**A/N: **The end of this little story, folks! Your responses have been beyond phenomenal, making me feel so happy and proud, and I'm so grateful that you have all enjoyed this tale :) Just FYI **SMUT**

**

* * *

**

He knew she was off ship. The night had become cold enough to bite and she'd been slipping away around the same time each evening. It was past midnight and the finest of mists was scenting the air with water, crisp and biting but beautiful in its frozen stillness.

He was leaning against the side of the ship, willing his feet to move. He wasn't going to admit he was scared, nervous, worried. It had been two months since that night at Langston Estate, two months since she'd given him everything and nothing all at once. Two months since he'd taken the heart he hadn't realised she was offering and crushed it between his fingers.

He hadn't been to a cathouse since, hadn't been able to stomach the thought of touching another's skin, of hearing another's moans. He didn't need to be told twice, the women of Serenity had set him straight, he knew the truth; he was in love with River Tam. She was like air, water, fire, howling through him, drenching him, heating his blood to boiling point. Every time she'd left a room he'd been desperate to follow, every movement she made had him transfixed, and he wanted nothing more than to own her, be owned by her, possess and be possessed.

And yet he was standing still.

He wished he could pinpoint the problem. There were so many. She was too young for an old _hun dan _like him, too beautiful and cultured for a Rim boy turned mercenary. She was damaged, that much was certain, although Miranda had been a catalyst for change within her, allowing her to purge the Alliance control and become her own person. Then there was the issue of him making her first time a rough quickie with no completion in the rain followed immediately by a fight, harsh words stinging her skin. There were so many reasons that she shouldn't even glance in his direction, shouldn't even acknowledge his existence, and he should be grateful just to walk the same metal hallways as she did.

But right before she sneezed she wrinkled her nose.

It was weird to notice something so small and focus on it, but focus he did. Every time River Tam sneezed her nose would wrinkle the tiniest bit. It was such an unimportant detail but it was scarred on his mind. She sneezed after putting too much pepper on her meals, though it never stopped her liberal doses, and it was worse when she put on so much chilly her eyes watered. When her exercises in the cargo bay kicked up dust that little nose would wrinkle right before the tiny achoo. Immediately afterwards she would flick her eyes around shyly, as if embarrassed by the noise.

He was learning.

Who the hell was he? Where was the hard ass, stone cold killer he'd been for the past 32 years? Why should he notice something so small? This was everything he'd avoided since Marcy Greene, every stupid idea he'd prided himself on ignoring. Whores were easy to understand, violence was the best medicine, the 'verse was no place for mercenary's who fell in love.

Inara was right – after everything that girl had been through she deserved something dazzling, someone perfect. She might be hurt now, but she would heal, and whoever held her next would know he held the 'verse in his arms. He ignored the way his jealousy heated his skin, ignored the nagging thought that no other man in the 'verse would know her, inside and out, good and bad, as he did. That no man could possibly appreciate the deadly, beautiful, brilliant package that was River Tam.

He couldn't do this.

He sighed, turning back towards the ship.

He jumped at the sight of brown eyes.

Book smiled. "Going somewhere?"

Jayne shook his head. "Not anymore preacher, not anymore."

Book nodded thoughtfully. Jayne wanted to ask him about the girl in his past, wanted to know how Book coped with experiencing that kind of love and losing it, but the words never reached his lips. The preacher leant against the bulkhead and turned his eyes towards the dark forest outside the ship.

His voice was quiet, as if he wasn't really speaking to Jayne, rather just talking to himself. "I saw a brown snake earlier today. Did you know snakes go through a process called ecdysis? In layman's terms it means to slough or molt - basically shedding skin. It doesn't mean they change - underneath they're still the same snake they've always been. But it does mean they let go of something, leaving behind the skin they've outgrown. ean they get rid of the stuff that they've outgrown - dead weight that is restricting, they can't grow with it anymore, so it's gotta go. Sometimes the process can take a while, but it's always worth they are stronger for their shedding."

He flicked his eyes over to Jayne. "Ah well, off to bed for me I think. Goodnight Jayne."

Jayne's response was automatic. "Night preacher."

As Book walked back to his room he heard the sound of footsteps leaving the ship, and he smiled to himself.

* * *

The mist was thick enough to obscure his vision slightly, but he kept breathing in the night air, searching for her familiar scent. Finally a wisp of creamy vanilla tickled his nostrils, leading him through the thick woods. Dark trees laced with vines, small brooks babbling over stones, wild and unkempt and free.

He came to a small clearing, studying the area carefully for any sign of her. Over by an ancient oak tree she sat, legs drawn up to her chest. The thick green cargo jacket came partway down her thighs, a heavy hood covering her head, but he'd recognize those heavy boots and chocolate curls anywhere. The boots were sitting beside her, bare feet slipping over the wet grass.

He walked towards her, unsurprised when she didn't move to look up at him, face fixed back into the dark forest. He reached down, wrapping his hands around her forearms, finding no resistance as he pulled her upright. She kept her head down, staring directly at his chest, refusing to look up. He put one hand under her chin, moving it upwards until her eyes met his.

Dark, whisky eyes filled with unshed tears. She knew he saw the tears, he could tell by her angry embarrassment, pink mouth set in a thin line. He held her in place, trying to think of where to start.

"_We were honest, no more, no less."_

He exhaled. "I hate cabbage."

She stared at him as he ran one hand over her back, pulling her close enough that she was pressed to his chest.

"An' I like whisky better'n bourbon."

He brought up one hand to lightly touch the side of her face.

"An' I ain't real smart, but I can learn when I need ta."

Thumb skimming over her cheek, brushing back towards her hair.

"An' I like it when ya cook wit' Kaylee, cuz the foods always better, an' ya laugh a lot. I like it when ya laugh."

Bending down slowly, skimming his lips over her cheek as her eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering against his rough stubble.

"An' I like it how ya dance when ya think nobody can see ya."

Hands either side of her face now as he kissed her forehead.

"An' sometimes when ya sit there readin' I think 'bout a ring on yer finger, an' my name after yours."

He flexed his fingers in her soft curls, her eyes still locked on his.

"An' when I don't get ta see you smile, I ain't happy. Can't be without it, I reckon."

Nervously running his nose down her own until his lips were lined up with hers. Brown eyes staring out at him from underneath that dark hood as he took a breath.

"An' I ain't great with words, I ain't no genius, an' my Ma says my manners ain't so good either…but I know how ta make me happy. An' since me bein' happy seems ta be kinda tied ta you bein' happy, I reckon I could make ya happy too."

Waited, frozen, bent low so they were face to face, wondering what her judgment would be. Her face was very still in his hands, her eyes wide and unblinking.

He waited.

And waited.

And just when he didn't think he could wait anymore, just when he was ready to throw in the towel and leave her in peace, just when he was ready to call it quits he saw it.

Her perfect pink lips quirked up at one side.

He could feel her breath on his face as she spoke.

"He wants her?"

He nodded. "More'n I ever wanted anythin' in my whole damn life."

The smile she gave him was radiant, like the sun bursting through dark clouds, the dark hood still hiding some of her face in shadow. He tipped it so it fell to her shoulders and took a single step back, releasing her entirely.

Unmasked.

Her face was clear of the thick makeup of the masquerade, her hair falling around her shoulders in loose, unbrushed curls slightly dampened by water. The heavy jacket hid her small frame, thin legs sticking out, feet bare and glistening from the dew left by the mist. No makeup, no heels, no fancy get up and stylish hair. She hadn't been eating right, looked scrawnier than usual, and her skin was pale with its previous grief.

_Ma de_

He got it. He finally got it.

His voice was hoarse and unsteady. "Yer perfect."

A single tear slipped down her cheek and she gave him a shy, watery smile. He moved back towards her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, one hand tangling in chocolate curls as he kissed her. This kiss wasn't bruising, punishing, filled with anger and ugly words. This was tasting the softest lips he'd ever felt, wet tears slipping down her face and into his stubble as she kissed him back delicately.

He didn't want to push her, didn't want to taint his previous words with anything too forward, didn't want to make her think he was trying to play her. But when he kissed her she made that tiny, breathy moan that went straight to his john thomas, leaving him hard as a rock. He tried to think of something, anything that would calm him down, but she was reaching up her hands to clasp the back of his neck, standing on tiptoes to kiss him back at his full height, breasts pressing through their clothing against his chest.

She pulled back, locking him in place with her eyes. "He cares?"

He nodded, swallowing thickly. "Loves, baby-girl."

She gave him that same, fragile smile, and her voice cracked when she spoke. "Show her."

He was surprised. "Uh…here?"

She nodded and he couldn't deny those eyes, those lips, couldn't stop his arms tightening around her as he picked her up, kneeling carefully and laying her on the wet ground, grateful for her thick jacket. He stared at her, tucking a curl behind her ear before reaching down once more to taste those lips. He supported himself with one arm while he slowly, carefully unbuttoned her jacket with the other.

At the first feeling of silken skin against his hand he looked down, realizing she had only her underwear on, and wanted to admonish her for not dressing right given the cold weather. His mouth couldn't seem to make any words come out. She quirked an eyebrow and he decided this wasn't the time, preferring to stare instead at the creamy skin of her abdomen, at the way the moonlight made her glow.

His words came out as he exhaled. "Perfect…"

She smiled shyly as he returned to her mouth, letting his free hand skim over her stomach and up towards her black clad breasts, grazing over the cold hardened nipple it found. Her light moan of pleasure made him smile into her mouth as he circled and plucked at her breast, her hips moving of their own volition.

His hand moved down, fingers dipping briefly into her belly button before skimming the top of the cotton panties. He slipped his hand underneath, loving the way she mewled and writhed against him, biting her lip as he rubbed his thumb over her clit.

He'd done it all wrong before, he wasn't making the same mistake.

He felt her breathing change as he kept up his movements; her mewls and sighs building to sweet cries of ecstasy as he pushed her up and over the edge. As she came back down to herself he moved over her, kissing her as he settled between her legs, unbuttoning his pants and tearing away her underwear.

Her eyes had a sated look that flared back into lust as he rubbed himself against her, purring into his ear as he entered her slowly.

Bliss.

He wrapped one arm underneath her small form, her jacket warm against his skin, holding himself up on his elbow and pulling her closer to his body. She clutched at him, her legs wrapping tightly around his back as he began to move in slow, languid strokes, her nails biting through his t-shirt as she clung to him, snapping her hips in time with his thrusts.

Just as he felt those inner muscles begin to flutter again he rolled onto his back, keeping up his movements and bringing her with him. Her eyes flew open in surprise at the new position but when he moved one arm from around her waist and began to rub his thumb against her clit her eyes snapped shut again as she moaned softly as she came.

"So fuckin' beautiful, baby-girl."

This one hit her harder, her muscles clenching around him like a vice as she cried his name into the night, a sound that would haunt him pleasurably for the rest of his life.

When she began moving in time with his thrusts, bringing herself up on her knees and impaling back down, he felt his own climax building as she scratched her nails against his chest. She bit her bottom lip and he couldn't help sitting up, kissing her hard and tasting blood as she hissed her pleasure into his mouth.

As he felt them both begin to tumble over the precipice he wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, her hair brushing his arm as he tasted her soft lips. When she came apart her eyes flew open, locking with his as he pushed up into her, his own climax two months' worth of longing that ripped viciously through his body, sending a roar into the night that mingled with her liquid cry of release.

Her head fell to his shoulder and he laid back, breathing heavily, the wet ground soaking his shirt as she breathed into his neck. Her hood had fallen back over her head but he could see the sleepy, luminous smile breaking across her face. He was grinning himself, exhausted but sated in a way he'd never before experienced.

A thought occurred to him. "Why ya always take yer shoes off?"

She quirked a brow at his post-coital topic of conversation, and smiled in that shy way that made his heart pound. "Like feeling the grass, feeling connected to the earth."

He stroked one hand down her hair, brushing it back off her face and turning her head up to meet his eyes.

He couldn't help his next words any more than he could help breathing, and they felt more natural and organic then anything ever had. "Marry me."

If he'd thought her smile was radiant before it was nothing compared to now.

* * *

A week later he bought her a ring and Book married them in the cargo bay. She'd looked beautiful in her simple white sheath, a garland of fresh picked wildflowers courtesy of Kaylee ringing her head like a crown.

_He'd fucked her over the dining room table after the crew had gone to bed._

When Zoe had gone into labor they'd watched from the infirmary lounge, staring at the baby boy created. River had made chicken soup for the whole crew, and he'd made sure an anxious Mal was knocked out, much to Zoe's relief.

_She liked curling up on the couch to read, he always made sure she had a lap in which to sit._

She played peek a boo with baby boy Washburne while he polished his guns, her eyes filling with happy tears when Simon and Kaylee announced their wonderful news. She listened to Kaylee's tummy while Book bounced the littlest Washburne on his knee, smiling at Jayne with her face lit up.

_He fucked her against the wall of the bridge when Mal had placed him on nightwatch, smirking at the Captain's tired face the next day._

They attended Alliance parties for information, though now he wasn't a bodyguard so much as a husband, and she didn't dance with any other man. When he got shot she brought him dinner, carefully changing the dressing on the bullet wound and admonishing him when he ate his soup too quickly.

_She laid him back and sucked him off, saying it would facilitate healing with a gleam in her eye._

Simon fainted on the day he became a father, and Kaylee had screamed blue murder until Jayne slapped the doctor awake. River'd told him her secret that day, his whoop of joy echoing through the ship as he spun her round and round the cargo bay. They'd stayed up very late that night, dancing in slow circles alone in their bunk.

_She let him name his daughter, and had smiled approvingly when he held Aurora in his arms for the first time._

They fought and made up, laughed and screamed. Every day he made sure to learn more, and knew she did the same. She didn't demand fancy words, he smiled when she danced in the rain. He held his daughter on his shoulders as River tickled her feet, the tinkling laughter of their little girl making the world seem twice as bright.

_When they were alone in their bunk she writhed and moaned, crying his name into the night as he showed her how much he loved her._

She slept curled against his chest, and when their baby had nightmares she snuggled into bed between them.

And pinned to the wall of their bunk, overlooking the tiny bed filled with love, the big man clutching his girls to his chest even in his sleep, were a pair of black masks, one plain, one feathered.

And they were never worn again.

THE END

* * *

**A/N: **Another corny ending, but I just can't resist. I've had so so much fun writing this, I'm sad to see it go! I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have :)

Til next time Browncoats!

The Frisky Firelily


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